Back then I was a filthy worm,
Quarantined from the light of love,
But Christ took my inglorious form
And made me a jew'l in His trove.
Ere Earth's soil hatched from the waters
Were roots of His love established;
Its reviving fruits He offers
To the sin-ravaged and famished.
Can I forget the wondrous cross
On which greater love was displayed?
Ere for His life silver was tossed
Did He pass Himself-- betrayed.
Yes, precious blood from sinless flesh
Has washed my guiltiness away;
His Spirit, out of joyless mesh,
Has placed me in a brighter day.
Will ye Godless His hands accept,
And be drawn to a better plan?
For even in best prisons kept
He does seek for a contrite man.
This poem was a finalist in the May 2014 poetry contest